


One of Us

by fleurlb



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:39:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4028851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurlb/pseuds/fleurlb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tara doubts that she's changed the team at all, but she knows that they've changed her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LookingForOctober](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LookingForOctober/gifts).



Tara Cole knows how to leave a burning building – as fast as possible, crouched low to the ground, and carrying something that's both valuable and can double as a weapon. Metal suitcases full of cash are the best, but Tara knows that sometimes you have to leave empty handed. Sometimes, your freedom is the best weapon.

As the sirens swell in her ears, Tara casually jumps into the back of a pickup truck and hides in some old camping gear. She settles in for a long wait. She can hear a police scanner in a nearby cop car, and the report of shots fired does not please her. She knows it's not Eliot firing the shots. 

The sound of the chopper arriving makes her smile, although her happiness is dented by the report on the radio of an ambulance required for one Nate Ford, wounded in the abdomen. Tara blanks out her mind and slips into a meditative trance while she waits for her ride to take her away from the scene of the crime. 

Tara slips into a meditative state, letting thoughts flit in and out of her mind like butterflies in a flower garden. She realizes, as she focuses on keeping each breath shallow and silent, that her life always twists and turns in unexpected ways. She thinks of all the past versions of herself that she's created over the years and wonders what they'd make of each other.

Carol, her first but no longer true self, would be horrified to see Tara grifting away. Carol was a straight shooter, literally she won the award at Quantico, who was fluent in multiple languages, trained in cryptography, and had shamed more men in combat training than had been strictly necessary. She was going to save the world, catch the bad guys, and wear her badge with pride.

Until the... incident. In her heart, Tara knows it was was sabotage, plain and simple. She'd gotten too close to something distinctly kosher and had been set up for a fall. She knows she's lucky that the awning broke her fall, even though 30 stitches and a skull fracture rarely qualify as lucky. The fall gave her perspective, namely that she got paid too damn little to put herself on the line for assholes, partner or not.

And so Carol was reborn. The first few jobs were dicey and difficult. She's glad that she's paid her debt to Sophie, because she knows she'd be rotting in Peruvian jail if Sophie hadn't stopped her in that bathroom and told her that she was about to sell a stolen painting to a wired-up Interpol agent. Even though Tara had argued that using Sophie's preferred fence and giving her a 5% cut should've been payment enough, she was arguing so she wouldn't look like a pushover. Appearances were everything in the grifting world, but she knew that Sophie had saved her ass and that was worth way more than 5% of a stolen third-rate Klee.

The truck starts moving, and Tara switches to counting in her head. She has an idea of where she wants to jump off. She has a small safe room in a flop hotel not too far from the docks. She'd rented it as soon as Nate started targeting the mayor. Her longevity in this business is because she doesn't so much plan for a rainy day as she plans for a damn monsoon.

When Tara reaches her magic number, she waits for a stop light, which is conveniently near an overpass. On her way out of the truck, she grabs a raincoat and a baseball hat, which she has on nearly before her feet hit the ground. She gets her bearings and then makes her way to the flophouse, slowly and carefully with plenty of track changing to make sure she's not being followed.

When she's safe in her room, she dyes her hair a mousy brown and chops off several inches. She pops in some colored contacts and then gathers her escape kit. She's about to hit the road, when she sighs and sits back down on the bed. She knows a little about how the FBI works, and she has no doubt that they're going full electronic blackout on Nathan Ford. They know he has a gifted hacker on his team, so they won't even be typing Nate's name in a computer for a long time. They're also going to keep him isolated. 

Tara knows she should run, but she can't help thinking about how worried the team might be, especially Parker. Tara tells herself that she needs to help just to keep Parker stable. You don't want 20 pounds of crazy in a 5 pound bag going completely off the rails, not when she can identify you. But Tara's never been that great at lying to herself. She knows exactly why she wants to do this, exactly why it's a bad idea, and exactly why she's going to do it anyway.

Tara pulls out a burner phone and starts calling hospitals, starting with the nearest one to the docks. Each time the phone is answered, she asks to speak to the agent in the charge. On the third call, she hits lucky and hangs up before the call is transferred. Time is finally on her side.

About a half an hour before shift change, Tara stands at the bus stop outside of the hospital and sizes up the situation. There's only one agent posted at the door, and he's not checking ID. A bus pulls up and a couple of nurses and cleaners get off and walk toward the hospital. Tara joins their ranks and slips right in, trailing behind the cleaners to see where their changing room is. She goes in with them, acting for all the world like she belongs. 

It's almost like she's invisible, which is just fine by her. She ducks into a toilet stall and waits until they've left before reentering the locker room. She picks a lock and borrows a uniform and ID. Ylena Kazlauskas. She can work with that.

Tara finds a cleaning cart and makes her way up to the surgical floor. Her guess is confirmed by the agents stationed at the elevator, but they barely glance at her. Invisible indeed. Tara works her way down the hall, cleaning the floors while checking each room. She passes an emergency exit, manned by another two agents, and then finds Nate in a room around the corner. She's fully expected an at-room guard, but apparently Nate is so debilitated that the FBI are only covering ingress/egress. 

Tara lifts the medical chart and discretely uses her iPhone to photograph every page. Then she slips into the room, mopping her way in until she's next to Nate's bed. He's handcuffed to the railing, but there's no agent in the room. Tara watches his steady breathing, his eyeballs moving behind his eyelids. She whispers his name and gives him a good poke in the shoulder, but he's out for the count.

“Don't be such a jackass next time. That team loves you. Don't mess it up,” she whispers in his ear before she walks out and makes her escape.

Back at the safe house, she emails Sophie the medical records and resists the urge to say that the team owe her one. She realizes that they're past that stage now. However strange and short her stay was, she's one of them now.


End file.
